


It's cold outside.

by Nuaddu



Series: A Second Chance [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:20:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22326247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuaddu/pseuds/Nuaddu
Summary: It's cold outside, or at least everyone thinks so. Everyone but Maedhros.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno & Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Series: A Second Chance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607059
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

Some of the Atani claim the Undying Lands are the "lands of always summer", or something like that. If I had to guess, I'd say those legends sprung from some human tribes living too close to the dreaded north. While I never suffered from the chill like my brothers (oh, how they hated Himring...), I should be fair and say that while I didn't like those Beleriandic winters either, I never thought them unbearable. I, however, was living in a fortress carved into the rock, while the early Atani lived in villages on the frozen plains (or at least they used to, before the Dagor Bragollach). Also, being immortal kinda takes off the edge out of freezing to death, so... Anyway, I'm digressing, and my point is that we also had winters and snow in Aman.

So anyway, I never really felt the cold, as my mother would testify. When I was a kid she would always try making me put on a coat or a scarf when going out in winter. It was a common ritual - she would tell me I need to put on something warmer and I would make a scene about it, until one of us gave up. One such time was when we were all invited to grandpa's palace in Tirion for some family get-together (those would usually end up with my father ~~and my uncles~~ being passive-aggressive to each other, with Finwe attempting not to notice). We were living in a small house about 30 minutes ride from Tirion, overlooking Tuna and the bay. Sometimes I wonder whether anyone still lives there, after all those years. I mean, we Elves aren't into ghost stories, but had I been back in the west I would've spread rumors that house is hunted just so I could move back in, with everyone too scared to come snooping around.

Anyway, I'm digressing, again - by that time I was around the age you humans would probably call "late childhood", probably around the human age of ten. "I'm not wearing that" I said as amme handed me some fur scarf, "I'm fine". "It's snowing" she said impatiently, "you'll get cold"; "no I won't, and I don't need this coat either. My trousers are enough". "Now Nelyafinwe, listen to your mother" said atar, and I just said "but I'm never cold! I always get sweaty!"

"I'd rather have you sweat than catching the flu". "I'm not putting it on, I'll be fine. It's not that cold" I said defiantly. "Very well then, we're not leaving until you put these on" she said and hung my coat and my scarf. "That's so unfair!" I said, but my parents insisted. After ten more minutes of arguing, I finally gave up. "You know, he got it from your side" said my dad; "my parents aren't as stubborn" said amme. It was obvious my dad took it personally, but he chose not to reply.

*

A few years later, and I was in what you humans would call "late teens" (technically, I was probably hundreds of sun-years old, but those were the years of the trees and time went by slower. Much slower). By that time, everything had changed; my dad and his brothers were openly hostile to each other, and I saw my relatives less and less - well, that's not entirely correct. I used to go to town quite often, where I would meet Findekano - my dad didn't know about it, and I'm pretty sure Nolofinwe didn't either. Judging by their knowledge of what was actually going on between us, it's not as if they would have any objections to it - I mean, back then "Russingon" as you call it wasn't exactly known to anyone but me and Findekano. Despite that, I'm pretty sure my dad started suspecting something "wasn't right", which is probably why he sent me to grandpa Mahtan for the winter. I was supposed to be his apprentice, but I ~~was~~ am a terrible smith (a fact my dad often refused accepting), and in practice all I did was stay at my grandparents' doing whatever. By that stage of my life my parents had expected me to find an occupation, which, as I found out, was going to be harder then I thought - I wasn't much of an artisan craftsman. I did like painting, but I wasn't nearly as talented as other Elves, and as much as I was an avid reader linguistics weren't my thing either. I did enjoy mathematics (a topic I studied with grandpa Finwe), but in Elven society this was looked down upon (or at least it was back in the day - I have no idea how things are today). Thinking back, us Elves were never that into science and technology (other then the medicinal one), but I digress. Again.

So, this apprenticeship my dad had in mind soon turned into something along the lines of "let's not get too bored doing nothing". Unlike my dad, Mahtan couldn't care less about me being inherently bad at making shiny stuff. "You have enough brains, I don't worry about your future. That's your parents' job". He was sorta the "uneducational" grandfather - I was his eldest grandson (although my mum wasn't his eldest), which meant he allowed me to do pretty much anything - for example, when I was young - the equivalent of a 5 year old human kid - he took me with him on a hunt the morning before the midwinter celebration. When we came back, with a boar dragged behind the horse, my parents nearly killed him (it didn't help that I proudly proclaimed to have shot some arrows at it). Anyway, right now Aulendur was proud of his new invention, the distillery - which was applied to distill Miruvor into some hard liqueur, which, as you may guess, he let me try, arguably making me into the first teenage drinker in Arda. We were sitting at my grandparents' kitchen, downing shots of distilled Miruvor (a thing I immediately took liking to) and looking at the snow outside. "You know, out of all my grandchildren, you're like me the most". "I'm terrible at making jewels". "Again? First you should've seen your father when he first arrived here, and second, so what? You're young, just enjoy life instead of worrying about a profession, you have eternity to do just that. Anyway, you look like me the most. My hair color passed on only to you". "Ambarussa are also red haired". "But your hair is copper, not ginger" he said, and downed another shot. "I really should try and sell this in Tirion. Do you think your relatives would like it?"

Granpa Finwe was a nice man, but he wasn't much of a drinker, and the same was true for Indis. My cousins on the other hand... "I dunno grandpa. Did Aule teach you that?"

I looked at the clock - it was 2PM, nearly time. "Grandpa, all this drinking made me a bit dizzy. Would it be alright if I go outside and take a walk? I need some fresh air". "Yeah, sure" he said, pouring himself another glass. "Put something on, Nelyo! It's freezing" yelled my grandma when I was at the door. "The snow stopped, I'll be fine" I said. "Oh, don't worry for him, he's like me. He doesn't care for snow!" I heard my grandfather saying. I shut the door and walked towards the woods - I did that every few days, with a very good reason. "You're late" said Findekano when I entered the clearing - it was close enough to Mahtan's house, yet far enough so we wouldn't be seen.

"Yeah, but I have a good excuse" I said, dizzy; wow, that thing is like Miruvor, but on steroids, I thought. "Are you alright? Your breath smells funny".

"Yeah, I drank some kicked up miruvor" I said, "my grandfather said it should pass in an hour or so". Findekano was amused; "I like it when you're like that" he said and kissed me. "Aren't you cold, Russo?"

"It's not that cold" I said, when we suddenly heard riders, and FML, it was my dad and Makalaure. He didn't even greet me; "what are you doing here?"

He said coldly, looking at Findekano. "I..". "It doesn't matter" said my dad impatiently; "there's a storm coming, you two better come inside" he said, looking at me; "I will send a messenger to your father, to tell him you're alright" he added, looking at Findekano. He seemed angry, even furious, and for one minute I was afraid he saw us kissing. Luckily enough, he didn't, and it was only something about Melkor and the Silmarils. Apparently Melkor threatened him, and he rode to check whether I was alright. However, a few weeks later he did catch us being naughty. The result? The next time he was at the palace, he drew a sword. A day later he informed me, personally, with a gleeful smile on his face, that we were all moving to Formenos; I wanted to punch him so bad. "You're going to like Formenos", he said, "it's always cold".

*

"What are you doing?!" 

"Get away from that fire, I command you" barked my father, as I was going in the water. "Ambarto is in there!" I yelled at him, looking at the ship burn. If Ambarto was really there, I dreaded to think, he was already dead. He wasn't on the shore either, and I hoped he was left behind in Aman or something like that; I didn't recall seeing him on the ships, but that was no guarantee for anything. "As your king I order you to come to shore" said my father. "Why did you do this? Are you insane?"

"You should be a little more respectful. You may be a prince, but I will not suffer such disloyalty" he said. "Disloyalty? You just stranded more then half our people in Aman! Why, in Eru's name?"

"I do not discuss family business in the open, behave yourself". "Family business? It's more then half our people!"

"I will not have these usurpers tarnishing my family name and inciting you against me". "Inciting who? What are you talking about?"

"As I said, I will not discuss family affairs here in the open". "Oh, you won't discuss that but you wouldn't mind risking all our lives just for your goddamn jewels?"

"Be careful, you may be my son but I will not suffer insolence". "And I will not suffer a king who acts impulsively, slaughtered his kin and abandoned his relatives to the mercy of the Valar!"

"The Teleri are not my kin". "How can you even say that? Mom was half Telerin!"

By this time, a few warriors gathered behind me, and I could see in my father's eyes he was getting nervous. "If you so much insist on knowing, it is because that snake in the grass, your cousin, Findekano". "What? Have you gone insane?"

"Do you think I did not know that he was your uncle's tool to shame me and my family? You should be grateful I didn't abandon you with them. You shamed me and my house by fornicating with that mongrel". My jaw dropped; "congrats, you're officialy insane" I said, and added "I'd rather have Findekano here with me. Uncle Nolofinwe would've been a better king". And as I said that I unsheathed my sword, only to realize a second later how stupid that was - by that time, there were no warriors standing behind me. I put down my sword. My father looked at me, disgusted; "my son you may be, but you're no longer my heir. If you prove your worth in the next battle, I might consider not disowning you" he said coldly.

A few hours later we were standing on a hill, looking at dad's corpse devoured by flames and burnt to cinders. "What now?" asked Tyelkormo. "Well, we're stuck here, it seems" I said bitterly. "I'm cold, it's freezing here" said Ambarussa. I looked towards Thangorodrim, the three mighty peaks covered in dark clouds, lit only by the stars. I could see in the distance a party was drawing near, three riders on horseback. "Who are they?"

"They're not our friends, that's for sure" I said. "They're unarmed" said Makalaure, suspicious. Eventually, one of the riders drew near us; he got off his horse, looking like a fair and godly figure, surrounded by light. "I am Mairon the Great, servant of Arda" he said, "is there anyone from you rabble who can treat with me?"

I looked at my Makalaure, my dad's new designated heir; that's your cue, go! But he only stood there, staring at Thauron, frozen. I sighed; "I am Maitimo Nelyafinwe, first son of Feanaro Curufinwe" I said as impressively as I could; "I've heard tales of your exploits, Mairon, should I call you Aulendil?"

"So, are you the one leading this sorry bunch? Very well. It's a shame we have to fight - I suggest we negotiate a truce. After all, you've slain most of our Orcs, and undoubtedly, you must be tired after your voyage. My lord is considering to offer you a Silmaril, he just discovered they're not worth that much". "Of course, let's assume he did. Very well, we may negotiate" I said, and heard the objections flying from behind me. "I will be back in an hour" said Thauron, making a fake bow and returning to his horse. He was soon gone.

"Are you out of your mind? How dare you speak for us!" cried Makalaure. "Someone should've, and you didn't seem cut for it" I said, "had I not talked he would understand we're leaderless". "Still, treating with Moringotto? What's gone into you?"

"Brother dear, I'm not treating with him, it's just pretend, likely on his side as well. The enemy is only trying to asses our power, and we desperately need time to organize. Now, you go back and fortify camp while I buy us some time". Makalaure was struck; "it didn't occur to me". "Well, it does now. You all go, leave me here with a division. I'm afraid we might have to fight our way back". "Very well" said Makalaure; he was clearly unhappy about it, but he didn't have much of a choice. I started taking off my helmet and chainmail; "I don't think that's a smart thing to do" said Curufinwe; "well, it most certainly isn't, but I can't look like I'm preparing to fight. And besides, I'm sweating like crazy under all this metal".


	2. Chapter 2

When I woke up I only saw Findekano, sitting next to my bed, and looking at me with an unexplained expression on his face. A mixture of anger and sorrow, I think, although my memory may be betraying me here - after all, it had been twenty thousand years. "So it wasn't a dream" I said bitterly, looking where my right hand used to be. All I saw was a stump, and stitches which were no longer bleeding. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"No, not at all" I said, sadly; "you should have stayed in Aman". Findekano stared at me coldly; "that's your "thank you" then?"

"Findekano, I've seen it, there's no chance of winning. I've seen it all, in those pits", I said, and started shivering. "Here, let me put more wood in the fire" said Findekano, and his anger seems to have vanished. "You should've stayed in Aman" I said, half sobbing, and then I fell asleep again.

When I woke up again, hours (or days) later, I saw Findarato standing there with Findekano, and Makalaure behind them, guarding the door. "You're up, that's better" said Ingoldo, and I felt disgusted at myself. Findekano and Findarato both looked like gods, when I felt like a husk of a being, breathing heavily, scarred all over, and crippled. Every movement I took hurt; "you're making a recovery, you'll be back in shape in no time''. ''There's no need to lie'' I said, ''I'm well aware of it''. ''Get out, Makalaure'' I snapped at my brother, who stared back at me, not understanding. "Get out", I said again, and he was gone. I landed my head back on the pillow; ''I'm so sorry you're here, it's all my fault'' I said, ''I'm so sorry''. ''What are you talking about?''

''I don't know how you got here, but I guess it wasn't by boat. This means you traveled through the snow, I'm so sorry''. Findekano and Findarato looked at each other, confused; ''we know you didn't burn the ships, we know what happened in Losgar'' said Findekano, and sat by me. ''So you already know I'm no longer a Feanorian, Makalaure is the head of my house". ''I don't know what you're talking about'' said Findarato, and Findekano also seemed confused. ''Oh, haven't you heard? My father was about to disown me, just before he died. He designated Makalaure as his heir'' I said, ''and all because of... Nevermind'' I said, and looked at Findekano; from the look on his face, he understood it, exactly. "That's why he burnt the ships, it's my fault. He didn't want you here, you know why. And now only death awaits us'' I said. ''I... I don't understand'' said Findarato. "Well, err, let's say Feanaro never was so keen on me hanging with Maitimo'' he said and started stroking my hand, the left one, if you were wondering. ''Oh, there's no need to go around it'' I said, ''my dad said it in front of everyone - I've shamed his house for fornicating with you, beloved. He called you a mongrel''. Findarato stared at me, and Findekano turned white; ''I drew a sword after he said that, and he almost disowned me. He probably would've, had he survived''. ''I... I... What? How can you two even...?''

''Does it matter? I hate my dad so much. First he took me away from you, and now... Thanks to him you're here, only to share the horrors. I hate him so much" I said and buried my head at Findekano's lap. His heart was beating fast, and I sensed he wasn't focused on me, only on Findarato, judging his response. "Please Findarato, you mustn't tell anyone of this conversation. My dad would freak out''. ''Of course I wouldn't! I mean, that's awfully strange, but that's none of my business. He's not in his right mind, don't be angry with him'' he said. I felt Findekano stroking my head, now shaved short, and scarred. ''Listen Russo", said Findekano, and I raised my head; ''all is well. We are many, and your house are many too. We will survive this storm. And also, just so you know, your brothers consider you the head of your house. You are Feanaro's heir, regardless of what he said before he died". I sighed, and then I remembered; ''is Ambarto with you?''

''No, why?''

''Oh no, please, Eru, no'' I said, ''he burnt him with the ships, he murdered him!''

Findarato and Findekano looked at each other, worried; "here Nelyafinwe, drink this'' said Findarato, and handed me a bottle filled with a golden liquid. ''What is it?''

''Miruvor, the last bottle we have left. We will soon have to prepare a new batch''. I drank it all in one sitting, and immediately got sleepy again. "Please, don't go'' I said to Findekano; "don't worry beloved, I will be with you, I will keep you warm. It may be cold outside, but there's a fire in you. I know there is, you will be fine'' he said, and kissed my forehead. 

*

A few weeks later I was strong enough to walk by myself - barely and slowly, but it was better then nothing. And the first thing I did was to ask an audience with Nolofinwe.

I tried to bow when I entered his tent; ''please Nelyafinwe, don't. Sit down, I think it's best'' he said. He was looking regal as ever, and there was no anger on his face, only a slight hint of fear. When I saw him I realized how much he looked like my dad, only... Less stern and more relaxed. Yes, this could work, I thought. I sat down, coughing; ''I'm sorry, I'm still not well enough, as you can see''. I looked at him again; yes, this certainly could work. "The reason I asked an audience is because, as you know, your people feel betrayed - and justly so''. ''It's OK, I know you had nothing to do with the ships. So do my people''. ''Well, I'm sure many don't. We need to mend the relations between our houses, some damage control if you will'' I said, and Nolofinwe moved uneasily in his chair. ''I want to offer you the Kingship of the Noldor. I will recognize you as my king, and I will take my brothers east. That's the least defensible part of Beleriand, or at least that's what I've been told by scouts". 

Nolofinwe stared at me in disbelief; "I also suggest we do this in an orchestrated ceremony, it should be done publicly. Don't tell anyone anything" I said. "I.. That's a generous offer, but I cannot take anything from you, you don't owe me or my people anything. After all you've been through... No, sorry" he said, looking at my stump. "First, I'm the head of the house of Feanaro, and Feanaro betrayed you - you should be angry with me. Second, that's totally irrelevant - either way, in your people's minds, we betrayed you" I said; "if we are houses are to reconcile, it has to look as if I'm giving up a lot to make amends. Don't do it for me, do it for our people. If we wish to survive this nightmare my deadbit dad threw us into, we must be united. Please trust me on this one".

Nolofinwe looked at me, with an unsure look on his face; "I understand. If so, I'm willing to orchestrate such a ceremony. In that ceremony I will ask for amends, and you will offer the kingship and other necessities as you see fit. I will accept your offers" he said, "but please, Nelyo, don't speak like that about your father. Despite his shortcomings, he loved you. I'm sure he never wished for any of this". "Are you? You know what he was like. He nearly disowned me for..." and then I stopped myself. "For refusing to burn the ships". "Oh, I'm sure he didn't mean to" he said. "I think he did. Makalaure was his designated heir, and even so, it doesn't matter" I said, "he's gone, and we're stuck here to deal with his mess. Now, my king, if you will allow, I'm going to return to my camp. I'm sorry for cutting things short, but I must sleep - on Findarato's orders".

"Of course Nelyo. Would you like me to come to your tent and discuss this show further?"

"No, I don't think it's a good idea, one of my brothers may hear us. They might be calling me their leader, but I'm sure some of them don't feel that way. I don't want them to suspect anything. You organize it and invite us. Just make sure it's as public as possible" I said. "Goodbye uncle, it was nice talking you"; I got up and got in my carriage. As we were driving back, I was looking at the great lake, the one which would later be known as "Mithrim"; it was late autumn, and the gray sky were reflected in the water, which had the look of a glassy, gray surface. A part of me wanted to scream; why didn't you tell him about you and Findekano, Russo, you idiot? Would you prefer he hears it as a rumor? 

I sighed; it doesn't matter, and I doubt Findekano would've been too happy about it if I did. Findarato knew and I felt terrible for it, although I knew he would probably keep his promise. As for my uncle, he did find out about it eventually - I only learnt about that after he died in the Dagor Bragollach, when Findekano explained to me why his dad answered my messages so laconically. I do know Findekano suffered from it all, but then again, it doesn't matter anymore. Beleriand long sunk under the sea, and, strangely, the remnants of my march are among the few parts of Beleriand which haven't fallen below the waves - you know them as Ireland and some of the Scottish Isles. 

I looked at the lake and sighed again, as the rain started falling; it seemed everything was only getting colder.

*

When we all got back to Himling after the Nirnaeth I wanted to die. I couldn't believe it - we lost everything and anything, and I lost Findekano. I lost Findekano. I lost him, likely forever. Findekano was dead, our army was delayed and betrayed, and all of Elvendom was about to be destroyed. "We're not resting here, we're moving south, now" I said, wiping the sweat of my forehead. "Makalaure, you organize the retreat" I ordered, "I will meet you all at Amon Ereb. It is fortified, right?"

"Yes" said Ambarussa hesitantly, "but it's not prepared for so many people". "Well, we have no better option. Retreat there, and prepare it for a long siege. I have a feeling it won't be long before the enemy moves against us" I ordered, "take with you all the Elves and Atani you find, they all will need shelter this coming winter" I said. "And what about you?" asked Makalaure; "I will come later on. I will cover for you if necessary" I said. "You're just one person, there's no wa-". "That's an order" I said, suppressing my grief, "do it now, I can manage on my own". Makalaure was about to say something, but he gave up and soon I could see them marching south, to the safer lands of Ossiriand. Amon Ereb wasn't much, but it was our best chance to survive this coming onslaught. 

The moment they were out of sight them I let out a terrible cry. No, no, no, this didn't just happen. No... Findekano was dead, I saw it before my eyes; Turukano had to retreat, and the Dwarves were also severely beaten. I lost Findekano, perhaps forever; no, no, no. I stared at the sky; they were clear and blue as you would expect from a late-summer sky, not at all reminiscent of the catastrophe that transpired just a few hours ago. "Findekano, if you can hear me, know that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, it's my fault you got into this mess, and now you're dead, all because of me. I'm so sorry" I said and my tears fell down on the moss. I was boiling in my own sweat, so I took off my helmet and chainmail. I don't care if I die, I don't care, I don't care. I wanted to enter Himling, to enter my quarters and wait for the orcs; they'd probably be here by sundown, I thought. Just three weeks ago Findekano visited me, and my bed still smelled of him. I wanted to wait for them, and die with his smell still up my nose. That would be pointless, as I had to rejoin my brothers; but I lost him, and all I had were my memories - I wanted to die and join him in Mandos, if only for a short while until he's released and I'm locked up, forever. And suddenly it hit me - it doesn't matter, we were separated for eternity. For even if Namo ever lets him out of the halls, and even if I survive this disaster, I would be forever sundered from him - I will never be allowed back into the west. So, whether I live or die, it doesn't matter, I've lost him. Forever. For the rest of eternity. No, no, no, Eru, no. I felt sick, and vomited; this is not happening, this is a nightmare, wake up Maitimo, please, wake up, this cannot be happening. 

But it was real, and I grasped the reality of it, laying on the grass, trembling in front of the sun. I just lay there on the moss for hours, wishing I was dead, staring at the sky. It was late afternoon when I got up; I could sense the air was changing, and that darkness wasn't far away. I took a deep breath; Findekano is gone, but I must keep up, if only for the sake of my brothers - and despite that, looking into my heart, I knew our mission was lost. Now it was just a matter of time - just as Namo cursed us. My memories of Thangorodrim were flashing before my eyes, and suddenly all I wanted was to flee south. I turned around and looked at Himling - while some of you, my dear readers, think of it as a mighty castle, in practice it was more like Nargothrond - a fort carved into the ground. Himling's (past) impregnability lay with its caves and underground tunnels, the entrance to which was almost impossible to find from outside. I took a deep breath, and mustered all my remaining strength - the earth shook, and the tunnels of Himling came crushing down on themselves, leaving the hill deformed and shorter then it was before. You've always hated Himling, my beloved Findekano, I thought bitterly as I got on my horse. Funny thing is, that I promised you that if we win this fight I'd be leaving Himling for Barad Eithel, and now... Now I'm leaving it anyway.

I wiped my forehead from seat and my eyes from tears, and started the long way south; it was so goddamn hot.


	3. Chapter 3

It's always hot when the fighting is over, it's always burning hot. And silent, it is all so silent. I was looking at the ruins on Menegroth, and there was silence. I took off my armour, it was so hot and I was sweating so much, I couldn't stand it anymore. Everyone were staring at me, the warlord wearing summer clothing and holding a bloody sword; everyone were staring, and everyone were silent. Outside it was freezing; it was, in theory, early autumn at best - but it seems that since the Nirnaeth the winters were getting longer and colder, and Doriath, being so close to the north, was no exception. 

"Search for it in the caverns" I ordered my men and signaled Makalaure amd Ambarussa to watch over it; "you - take my brothers' bodies to the entrance and gather some wood" I told Tyelkormo's squadron. None dared question me, not even my brothers. In fact, they were all afraid of me, and I terrorized them; I knew it, and I couldn't care less. My inner fire was now burning hot and strong, but it was not one of those flames you could use to light your hands or warm your hands, no - I was the fire none could withstand - no man, woman, tree, or animal - I was destruction. As much as I hated to admit it, I became my father's accursed oath, I became Namo's doom. I began bound to it, and now it consumed me whole, uniting with me. I was no longer Nelyafinwe, Maitimo, Russandol, and even Maedhros was too much. I was fire, I was death, destruction in Elven form.

I watched the pyres being lit and stood back; "we didn't find it" said Ambarussa, rising up from Menegroth, in a fearful voice. "Well, if you cannot complete this task, we will be reduced to this again - until we succeed". He was saying something back; "speak up". "Must we, brother? Nel-". "What do you think?" I said, mockingly; "what choice have the cruel Valar left us with? What choice did our great and illustrious father left us? None. If Eru has a problem, let him intervene - it's all done in his name, after all. We do what we must", I said bitterly. He didn't dare talk back. 

An hour later, when the flames were out, I ordered everyone to pack up. "Be quick about it, we need to leave this wretched place as fast as we can. It will not be long before the enemy sends his vile servants to defile this place". Then, all of a sudden, a wolf was heard howling in the distance - and afterwards, two soldiers started laughing. "What's so funny, if I may inquire?" I asked, and they turned silent. "Answer me, if you know what's good for you" I said. And they were silent; "I'm so sorry, lord" said one, next to them, "we took the young princes-". "You did what? I thought they fled". The two soldiers were looking increasingly frightened; "we found them, and took them to the woods"; my stomach was turned upside down. "And? Speak up, now"; "we left them there, unarmed. We didn't let them follow us back". "I see" I said; "who else participated in this?"

No one answered; "very well. Take away their swords and armour, and tie them to my horse" I ordered. "Makalaure, lead everyone back to Amon Ereb, I'll go look for the boys" I said, and turned my face to the condemned; "you will lead me to where you left them, barefoot. Oh, and you may wear nothing but your shirts and trousers". "It's freezing, please"; "If I can manage it, so can you. I pray for your sake they're still alive". 

*

The Sirion Delta wasn't a nice place in winter. Well, actually, it wasn't a nice place in the rest of the year either - but when we arrived there, it was foul and disgusting, and the water had the worst feel you could imagine. At least it wasn't as cold, being near the sea, even though it was damp and eerie, resembling a large swamp; "Must we do this, brother? Please". "Yes, Makalaure, we must. It's our only chance to end this cycle". We were looking at the havens from a hill overlooking the town; it was a sorry sight. A town of muddy tents and filthy cabins, with one arm of the Sirion's defiled delta flowing through it, watering it with poison from the north. The sea, on the other hand, was calm, like a surface of deep blue marble; the sun was getting up, and I sighed. It was time - I took off my helmet and signaled everyone to start moving.

"Brother, put it back on". "Give me break. I'll survive even if I go in naked, I always do" I said bitterly and spat. "It's not that. You might be cold" said Makalaure, and smiled sadly. "Cut it. Let's just get this over with".

*

And now, at last, at the edge, it's warm. My hand is burning with pain and heat, and the world feels cold, so cold. Down below by the Valar's Camp it's probably snowing, or at least there's some hail. And it's so hot, so hot, I'm wearing nothing, only holding a silmaril, staring, mesmerized, at the molten rock. I am fire, I am the devourer of Beleriand, I am the fire which burnt it so hard it had to be drowned by the Belegaer. This is over, this is finally over, and my hand is so hot, radiating heatwaves into me, my body feels as if it's boiling from within, as if my blood is literally boiling in my veins, The oath is fulfilled, that's it, I think to myself, half laughing like a madman. It's time to take out this fire, and there's no water around - in my pain I stare at the molten rock, feeling the Earth shaking benath me - or is my head spinning? Anyway, time to treat fire with more fire.

"Behold, Eru, behold Feanaro the accursed, behold, all of you Valar, Maiar, Atani, Eldar, and all that may bear witness - I fulfilled my oath!" I yell at the early evening's sky, and then I jump - for a short second I am fire, burning bright with pain, finally devouring myself, just like my father. And then, the fire is quenched - and I'm finally cold.


	4. Chapter 4

I walk in a street crammed with cars; oh, how the world had changed. It had been more then twenty thousand years since I died, and how the world changed! All that remains of the once mighty Beleriand are some islands in the Northwest Atlantic, and the memory of our wars was all forgotten. I've heard some in those northern lands still remember us Noldor - although in some strange form, as legends mixed with myths, and likely mixed with some very active imagination on top of it. Morgoth is forgotten, a thing I'm grateful for, and his mightiest of servants is hiding somewhere in this world, bent again on a war of domination - which is why Namo decided to send me back from the dead, plugging my fea in a human body, a body that is nothing but a shadow of my former self. 

What a mess, I think when I look around me; you humans sure are good at technology, but you lack a lot in harmony. Your cars may be efficient, but they defile the air you breath; your houses are grander then a small palace, but they're stuffed with unnecessary crap; your lights are mechanical and strong, too strong - they block the light of the stars from being seen. I sigh; this is a strange new world. I look at the sky and see my dad's jewel shining there, as if it was glaring at my sight; he has all the rights to do so, I guess, and at least one thing didn't change - there's a Silmaril out there, and it's beyond my reach. Let it stay there, I think, it serves a better purpose this way - and besides, I fulfilled my oath, and I will not repeat that dreadful mistake ever again. I look around me - it's midwinter, and it just snowed a few moments ago - the streets are covered with a thin white layer of snow, which would probably melt in an hour or two.

As for me, I'm only wearing a coat, a T-shirt, and shorts. I enter a small pub; it's in the old city, a small house which was converted into a gastro-pub - it may be overcrowded with hipsters, but at least they serve good wine . "I'm cold just from looking at you" says the bartender as I come in, and I just shrug indifferently. "What would you have, ginger?"

"A glass of red wine, I think. Do you still have mulled wine?"

"No, I'm afraid. We do have some spiced mead" he says. "Mead? No thanks, I'd stick with wine". "What have you got against mead?"

He asks, and I'm suddenly reminded of that midwinter, many many years ago, I Mahtan's cabin. Should I tell him about it? He wouldn't believe me, and besides, I doubt any mannish mead could be as good as a glass Miruvor, although considering the task at hand, I think a glass of Miruvor could be a good idea. Then again, there isn't any - perhaps I should make some. "I think wine is better, that's all", I say. He turns around, and then I ask, out of sheer curiosity "do you happen to have distilled mead?"

The Bartender looks at me, surprised. "You know mead isn't a distilled drink, right?"

"Yup, I do. I used to brew it myself when I was younger". "When you were younger? How old are you exactly?"

I was about to answer something sarcastic, but I stopped myself; "both my father and grandfather were mead-makers, I used to do it with them as a kid. My grandfather distil- sorry, used to distill mead" I said, feeling a pinch inside me, as the image of me downing shots with Mahtan resurfaced in my mind. Oh, this had been such a long time; it seems everything went downhill from there. "As for my age, I'm only 24". 

"Hmm, I don't have any distilled mead, but I do have Becherovka. It's not distilled mead, but it should have some honey in it". "Bring it on then". "Ice?"

"Come on" I say, looking at him reprovingly, and he only laughs and hands me a shot. He's good looking, and my gaydar is twinkling like crazy, but no, probably not tonight. I down it with one gulp - "another one, please" - and then I get all nostalgic; this is not Mahtan's distilled Miruvor, but it's not a bad substitute altogether. It's a tad bitter though - but then again, I bet some of my kind in the west probably also spice their drinks with herbal bitters, so... And then, I remember how, after becoming the first drunken teenager in Eldamar, I snuck out to the woods to see Findekano; but that was many, many midwinters ago, when the Trees were still alive. Oh, well, that would probably never come to pass again, I think as I'm reminded of Findekano - I miss him so much. Not a day passes by without me thinking of him, although we haven't spoken since our days in under the sun. I refused contacting him (or anyone else, for that matter) in Mandos, and no, while it pains me, I don't regret it. My deeds cut me off from the rest of Elvendom for the rest of eternity - Namo begs to differ, but then again, I refuse to believe that.

"Here it is" said the bartender, delivering the second shot. "Are you alright?"

He asks, and I realize there are tears going down my (slightly unshaven) cheeks. "I'm fine" I said, "just some old memories" I said, and handed him the payment. "That's it? Won't you stay for another drink?"

"Oh, I can't, I have work to do" I said as I put on my coat. "Who works this hour on a Friday?"

Evil sprites don't take days off, I think - and nor does Feanaro's eldest - his fire is everlasting. "Some of us cannot afford a day off" I said, "see you another time". "It's snowing again" said the bartender, looking outside. "Won't you stay for another hour or so, until it's clear? It's awfully cold outside" he said. I know, even rogue maiar wouldn't brave that snowstorm - and that's precisely why I must go, now, before I'm noticed.

"Thanks, but I'm in a hurry and as you can see, I'm never cold. Namarie".

"Huh?"

"Oh, I just said goodbye. And just for the record, it's not that cold outside".


End file.
